


studio 404

by quartzfia



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: (but not really), Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Dance, Angst with a Happy Ending, Ballerina! George, Fluff and Angst, Identity Reveal, Jealousy, Love Triangles, M/M, Miscommunication, Mistaken Identity, Mutual Pining, Tap Dancer! Dream
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-06
Updated: 2021-03-10
Packaged: 2021-03-12 12:08:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,253
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29884365
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/quartzfia/pseuds/quartzfia
Summary: With zero hesitation he pushed the door upon, eyes darting to the figure there as he realized it was very much not empty.George found himself completely enthralled with what he saw.He always had a thing for tappers, didn't he?-Or in which, George left everything behind him to pursue his dreams of dance in New York City, and meets two mysterious people he grows too attached to in too little time.
Relationships: Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF)
Comments: 34
Kudos: 74





	1. golden

**Author's Note:**

> dedicated to nico <3
> 
> \+ chrissy, my unofficial beta reader
> 
> love you <333

Anyone can wish to go to New York, to see the lights, maybe a few shows, enjoy the scenery.

George  _ craved _ it.

He had jumped at every opportunity to train back in England, working hours and hours past when his studio was supposed to close until every muscle in his body ached. He had grown accustomed to the insistent pain after every group class or private lesson, almost to the point of reveling in it.

Every dancer in the rooms of his pre-screens and callbacks could bend themselves in impossible ways and use every tendon and muscle to keep themselves on balance and upright for way longer than any normal person would, but to scouts and colleges, it mattered how effortless it looked. Back at home, it was a competition practically to see how bored your face could look while executing intricate combos and turns, keeping the effort, exertion, and pain deep inside and unseen.

George had always excelled at this, and his masking of true feelings or emotions went far beyond his ballet flats and barres. He’d always been good at remaining an enigma.

This was one of the many factors leading to his acceptance at his top school in the heart of New York City, and on top of it, the full scholarship there.

He’d nearly fainted when he’d received the email, and could not have been jumpier to finally leave the place he had called home for his whole life. His heart had always been somewhere else, drifting off into the sea of his passions and always leading him back to his big-city dreams.

Being on the campus, however, was the most surreal feeling he could get. The crisp autumn around him seemed to be coursing through his veins, the gusts of wind picking up the edges of his hoodie and pushing him through the doors of where he’d call home for the next few years.

Being accepted into the dance conservatory, specifically ballet, was one of the toughest feats available at the school.

Despite this, he would still be rooming with random people, unconnected to his major, which was how he met his first friend.

Throughout the five weeks leading up to the campus opening to move into, each student had access to their roommate’s phone number and were set to text each other certain “ice breakers” per week to make things less awkward.

George thought it was the cringiest bullshit he’d heard in a while, and luckily his roommate Nick did too. They became fast friends, mocking each automatic system text they’d get with their weekly tasks and just trying to act normal around each other.

Nick, or as he preferred to go by Sapnap (George thought it was a stupid name, but kept his thoughts to himself), was a computer science major who had lived in the city most of his life, and wanted to become a game designer after college. He’d mentioned a childhood best friend and a few other insignificant details George couldn’t remember.

Needless to say, he was satisfied with his random luck at a pretty decent dorm mate.

He found his way through the halls and up way more stairs than he wanted to trek on a daily basis to finally arrive at his door already open and boxes still strewn across the front.

“Hey,” George said, stepping over the boxes of things and rolling in his luggage. He brought very little with him from England, most of the weight being clothes, but Sapnap seemed to have brought everything from his childhood home and then some.

“Hey, your room’s on the left, you have any classes today?” The taller replied, moving to stand up from his place on the couch to actually greet his friend.

“No, I start tomorrow, which thank god because I’m already completely drained.”

The brunette nodded in response, moving to pick up the second to last cardboard box and going to what he assumed was his room which was the door next to his.

George sighed, glancing around the tiny dorm. It was quaint, the kitchen and living area in a connected room that might have seemed cramped to anyone normal, but George had been dreaming of being in a confined room in the big city since he could  jeté. 

Rolling and carrying what little luggage he had, he walked into his shell of a room, glanced at the empty desk and neatly made bed lacking pillows.

Despite the small layer of dust collecting on his windowsill, the clearly unsturdy wood making up his furniture, and the carpet he just knew would get dirty and uncleanable instantly, after years of yearning and tears, he finally felt at home.

-

Of  _ all _ the required classes for his major, of course dance education history would be one of them. 

George had lucked out on the fact that most of his classes were in person, rigorous, and training based, meaning he had the option to take some of his more academic classes online, this being one of them. Any offer to spend his time outside of a stuffy lecture hall was one he would take.

His room had quickly become his, walls now lined with posters and assorted decorations, along with a rather large planning calendar because as if he would ever be able to properly organize himself with all the chaos of his career path and major. It felt like home before, and was then simply taking its shape.

George was sitting in the waiting room of his class, boredly scrolling through Twitter as a distraction. He knew he was early, but he’d wanted to make a somewhat good impression before completely losing his professor’s trust with half-assed assignments. I mean, everyone in that class would be dancing upwards of five hours a day, what did they expect?

His screen quickly changed and mortification flooded through his system as he realized he was the only person whose camera had started on when he joined the meeting. Cheeks ablaze and hands frantically moving to turn his camera off he was kicking himself mentally for not checking to see if he clicked ‘join with camera’ or not. The brunette ran a hand through the short waves at the top of his head, face and collarbones still flushed a slight pink at the embarrassment. In hindsight, all of the students there were on their phones or desperately chugging any form of caffeine they could prior to their night classes, but the idea that anyone had been paying attention made himself cringe.

That idea was only confirmed when he saw a chat notification pop up.

_ Clay Adams (Private Message): damn shame you turned your cam off _

Well, perhaps it could’ve been worse. The embarrassment was still crawling under his skin as it sunk in that whoever Clay was had noticed and stared long enough to say something

_ Me: and why is that _

_ Clay Adams (Private Message): youre cute, wouldve given me something to pay attention to in this bs class _

His cheeks flared up a second time as he glanced into his mirror on the wall across from him. In his own opinion, he looked like shit. Dancing for hours at a time and only getting a quick rinse of a shower before going to more class did not produce a good-look on  _ anyone _ , let alone George.

Still, the compliment made him flush, despite having zero clue who had given him it.

_ Me: youre bold for messaging someone you dont know _

_ Clay Adams (Private Message): people tell me im quite bold _

_ Clay Adams (Private Message): major? _

A random person messaging him over a zoom chat was clearly either desperate, horny, or desperately horny, yet George couldn’t bring himself to stop talking to the mystery boy. He could care less about what his professor was droning on about.

_ Me: maybe i want a part of myself to be a mystery too, mr faceless _

_ Clay Adams (Private Message): fair enough _

_ Clay Adams (Private Message): still wanna talk with you, makes class less boring _

_ Me: am i just a distraction to you? _

_ Clay Adams (Private Message): no youre more than that _

Damn, this guy was smooth. George had come across his fair share of sweet-talkers throughout the dance scene but how this one managed to make a conversation over zoom feel so comfortable was beyond him. His lips curled into a soft smile, easing into the pillows behind him and letting himself interact with someone.

George wasn’t opposed to being social, but with hectic studio and performance schedules, he never really had time for much of any real friend after discounting his tights and dance bag. It was nice to have an easy conversation that wasn’t asking about the combo they were doing across the floor or which foot they were starting on for a section of petit allegro.

Me: well then, tell me about yourself since you know something about me 

_ Clay Adams (Private Message): what do i know about you _

_ Me: my face, duh _

_ Clay Adams (Private Message): hardly counts but okay. _

_ Clay Adams (Private Message): lived in the city for what seems like forever and i snuck my cat into my dorm _

Me: how the hell did you manage that??

_ Clay Adams (Private Message): as you said before im very bold. shes a pretty kitty and i wasn’t just gonna leave her behind _

George’s heat fluttered at that, with little reason why. Attempting to remind himself he’d no clue what this person looked like, he took a minute to check his phone again.

His plan failed as he immediately found himself itching to respond to the stranger, eventually caving much faster than he wanted.

Me: thats very sweet of you to risk your tuition for your cat

_ Clay Adams (Private Message): eh at most id get like a warning or smth im sure i could talk my way out of it _

George rolled his eyes. Who did this person think they were? 

Although, at a prestigious school of the arts, cockiness often got you the furthest. A part of him found himself drawn to the large ego.

_ Me: youre very cocky for someone who hasnt shown their face _

_ Clay Adams (Private Message): one day sweetheart _

The brunette bit the inside of his cheek, running a hand through his hair and tugging on his roots. It had been ages since he’d been called any pet name from anyone other than an old ballet teacher while fixing his form. 

_ Who does he think he is? _

Despite the inner frustration at the intrepid mystery boy, he couldn’t stop his mind from wandering back to him throughout the lecture.

Harmless conversations in an easy class could never hurt, anyways.

-

The aching in his legs had long settled in from his morning intensives, however, that didn’t mean George’s day was done. Far from it, in fact.

One of his main draws to the school was the extra studios in the back quadrant of the dance conservatory building. Almost all of them were full at any given time, but as the sun bled away past the city skyline, some of the rooms cleared up and the atmosphere was much calmer. Most were simple, basic floor for all types of dance with two barres on either side of the rectangular room. Some studios had large floor to ceiling windows, while the smaller ones were stuck with none at all. 

He found himself falling more in love with the campus as he walked through the dimly lit halls lined with rooms upon rooms. The linoleum under his feet was everything he’d imagined it’d be, and he truly couldn't bring himself to care about the pain and aches throughout his body as he approached the door he’d been looking for.

George had practically memorized the campus before moving, studying maps as a teenager with dreams he was now living as a reality. He knew exactly which studio he was looking for, but it still somehow didn’t feel real as he stood in front of the silver-plated number on the door. He had to stop himself from reaching out and brushing the numbers in front of him to convince himself that  _ this _ was real.

_ Studio 404 _

The adrenaline bubbling in his chest seemed to cause his ears to fill with static noise as he failed to notice the obvious noise on the other side of the door. With zero hesitation he pushed the door upon, eyes darting to the figure there as he realized it was very much not empty.

George found himself completely enthralled with what he saw.

A tall blonde, freckles lining the bridge of his nose and across his cheeks, beyond hyper-focused tapping away with precision and certainty George had never truly seen before. His eyebrows were furrowed inwards yet his features possessed a lightness as if everything was coming naturally to him. The brunette couldn’t help but stand in complete shock as the blonde finished his routine before him, music slowing and ending with a steady triplet beat repetition.

_ Stomp heel toe, stomp heel toe, toestand, toestand, stomp _

The music cut just as did his taps, and George felt blood rush to his face as the blonde turned his direction, stumbling backwards a bit. The look on his face was unreadable for a moment before relaxing into a sheepish smile.

“Oh my god, I am  _ so _ sorry, I was planning on using this room but then you were here and holy shit you’re skilled and-”

“Hey,” The blonde interrupted, walking over to George with a soft laugh. “You’re good, don’t even worry about it. I know this is like, the best room on this floor.”

He wasn’t wrong. George picked this very studio after falling in love with the windows showcasing the city below them, an ode to where his heart had lived for so long. Prime property for any dancer.

It was then when George realized he had to look up to make eye contact with the tapper.

_ Holy shit he’s tall _ .

“I can- uhm, I can leave if you-”

“ _ No! _ ” The dancer responded, moving a tanned arm towards George almost a little too enthusiastically. “Erm, I mean, no. If my sounds aren’t bothering you, we can share the room if you’d like.”

A golden smile spread across the tall boy’s face as he spoke and the brunette felt his knees go weak at the sight. Shaking his head out of his trance, he willed a response.

“Yeah, yeah that sounds great, actually. I was just gonna work on barre stuff.” 

George set his bag down next to the barre, sitting on the floor and moving to take off his vans and change to his flats. Shockingly, he found the tapper sitting down by him.

“Gentleman, I see,” George willed out playfully, hiding his own red cheeks downwards at his shoes to focus on changing.

“I needed a break anyways. I’d kill myself going a fourth time in a row.”

The laugh the golden boy procured was like a symphony to George. Beautiful melodies of silver and rust colliding together as if crafted by a  _ God _ .

Perhaps he was too in over his head with a boy he’d met a few minutes ago but everything about him reeked of sunshine and beauty.

He’d really always had a thing for tappers, in all honesty.

Perhaps it was because he himself could not tap for the life of him, being so awfully uncoordinated with the deathtraps others called shoes all his life. Almost every other dance form he could excel at or at least manage to stay afloat in (hip hop was pushing it), but for some reason he could never figure out tap, despite the hours of private lessons and frustration in his room past midnight that he couldn’t get himself to get even close to a single travelling timestep.

He finished tying his strings and stood up, shedding his jacket as well.

“Well, since we are sharing, I should ask your name,” 

George almost fell silent as he glanced up into the most piercing and stunning eyes he’d seen in a lifetime.

“George. And what can I call you?”

The blonde’s face faltered, glancing down at the brunette’s hand reaching out towards him.

“Erm, Dream.”

George giggled at that, moving to shake his hand.

“Dream? Won’t even tell me your real name?”

“It would ruin the whole alluring mystery tapper vibe, wouldn’t it?”

Dream’s face ran red at his words, despite the smirk still residing in his features.

“Well then, Dream it is.”


	2. windows

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> George is quite intrigued with the mystery tapper he's been dancing with, and while his body was aching, the blonde's words seemed to soothe him more than ice and piano music ever could.

His feet dragged against the floor, sore and lifeless with almost every movement.

George knew he should’ve been back in his dorm with a real (as real as you can get in college) meal, a cup of water, and a piano playlist before falling asleep and dreaming of nothing but dead air and peace. However, the brunette was  _ not _ a quitter, and he only took one day a week off of extra practice time, and tonight was not that night.

There was a steady throb in the back of his mind, ripping through his body leading to small shakes. 

It wasn’t a hard warm-up by any means, just technique and ankle strength training, but with the little effort he was able to put into it, it was more of a hindrance than a help.

“You look like hell, why are you even here?” A strong voice snapped him out of his dazed state.

“What? No, I’m fine,” George responded, refusing to make eye contact with the tall blonde now standing over him, a hand leaning on the barre behind him.

“You’re literally not even fully doing combos and when you do your legs are shaking. Sit down,” Dream continued, crossing his arms as he aimlessly made a few sounds with his shoes. George shook his head, continuing to look at the floor and tendu his leg back to first position, willing the fatigue behind his eyes and in his body.

“No, no, I’m fine, really just let me do this combination again I-”

“ _ George _ .”

The air in the blonde’s voice was gone and it had become a command rather than a suggestion. The brunette couldn’t hold back the flush on his face when he finally returned eye contact with the tall tapper. His yellow eyes were screaming at him to listen and in all honesty, George was more than willing to obey when  _ he _ was telling him to do something.

“Sit down, please.”

Rolling his eyes (he didn’t want to seem  _ too _ willing), he let his body gently collapse to the floor sticking his legs out like a child. Dream laughed, ruffling his blonde waves and sitting down next to him with a knee bent to his chest, hands clasped together overtop.

“What’s up? Why do you look two steps away from death?”

George sighed, recognizing the pounding in his head and just how  _ tired _ he was.

It had been a few days of his routine, adjusting to the grueling hours, yet always forcing time for his extra work in studio 404. Dream was there too, always working on something looking incredibly focused when George walked in.

Maybe the blonde’s presence played a role in why he insisted on leaving his dorm every night sacrificing homework and relaxation to get extra stretching and technique in, while catching glances at the person he shared the studio with.

Despite that, they hadn’t talked all that much, a few small conversations and quick (dare he say flirty?) lines, but sitting next to the tall boy, he felt a sense of peace and comfort.

“I’ve always worked really hard, so this state is kind of normal for me. Eventually it fades and I’m back on top of my game. You have to be in this industry,” George said, eyelids heavy but with no sign of sleep anywhere.

“Working hard is good but not to the point where you look like shit and your legs won’t stop shaking,” Dream replied, furrowing his eyebrows and looking down at the brunette next to him. For the first time that day, George smirked, looking up through his lashes at the blonde.

“Wow I look like shit, huh?”

Dream flushed at the realization of how what he said sounded, and moved his hands to shake as he frantically recollected himself.

“No, no! God no, you just look overwhelmed and tired and sad.”

George let out a small laugh before Dream smirked and continued.

“C’mon now, you always look stunning to me we both know that.”

Despite the light pink dust to his cheeks, the brunette rolled his eyes crossing his arms and looking up playfully at his friend? Acquaintance? He wasn’t too sure.

“I think you deserve a break.”

Dream’s tone shifted to a much softer and lighter one, making George’s heart melt at the sudden care.

“I really don’t want to go back to my dorm right now, my roommate said he had a date tonight and I don’t want to go back and cockblock or some shit, I’d never hear the end of it,” George responded, fingers toying with themselves in his grip. 

Sapnap had been fussing for the past two days, talking his ear off about how George needed to be out of the house for his allusive date. In all honesty, George was so annoyed with how much his roommate was going on about the mystery person, he’d been taking any extra opportunity he could to leave for that exact reason. 

Even without the prospect of hearing his friend get laid in the room over from his, he much preferred the floor to ceiling windows of studio 404 than his own compact room.

And perhaps the attractive blonde that came with the room was an added bonus, too.

“I never said go back to your dorm,” Dream continued, eyes drifting from the darkness of the sky through the window down back to the brunette next to him. George opened his mouth to say something but was cut off.

“Just stay here with me. We can just talk.”

George’s heart thumped as he turned his head to make eye contact. The blonde really was stunning, but despite flirty side comments, he was also probably very straight and/or had a significant other. Still, he’d give anything to know more about the enigma he outwardly claimed to be.

“Okay well, tell me about yourself. You grow up here?” George asked, folding his hands in his lap.

Dream nodded and let out a small laugh.

“Yeah, lived here with my mom for as long as I can remember. I’ve never even considered moving away, the city life makes me feel so alive and free. Plus, I mean, what better place to chase my dreams right?”

George was captivated as the blonde spoke, voice somehow easing the pain away from his muscles and bones.

“I don’t know what that feels like, I always wanted to leave England, even when I was super young. I just knew it wasn’t where I was meant to be, you know? I’ve danced since I could walk practically and I’ve spent years and years working my ass off to get here. In all honesty, its completely surreal,” George responded, hands moving aimlessly as he rambled. Dream seemed just as intrigued with the brunette as he with him.

“I knew I loved tap for, like, forever, and I really regret when I took a break.”

The blonde looked sheepish, eyes fixating on the other end of the room, the hand on his knee subconsciously tapping a random rhythm.

_ Holy shit his hands are big. _

“You took a break?” George asked, moving to turn his legs facing Dream, wincing slightly at the pain. Dream smirked, rolling his eyes and wetting his lips before speaking again.

“Yeah, I was a shitty kid in middle school and, like, the beginning of high school. I guess shitty isn’t the right word, I was just in a lot of pain and had no clue how to understand it.”

Dream looked like he was processing for a moment, seeming about to halt the conversation before looking turning to face George, a little startled he wasn’t uncomfortable.

George wanted to know everything about him, his favorite color, his childhood, how he grew to love dance, his best friends, everything. He would sit there for hours on end if it meant he’d get to listen to the soft and deep overtones of the tapper’s voice.

“I’m listening,” He got out, smiling softly, reveling in the slight flush of the blonde’s face as he turned his head forward continuing his story.

“Right. Well, I-I was going through a lot. My parents had been divorced for a long time, but my fucking dad was trying to get in contact, and I was pissed that he was even  _ trying _ to talk to me after the bullshit he put my mom through. And then I was also coming to terms with, uhm, my- my sexuality which, let me tell you, hormonal teenager, daddy issues, and sexuality crisis do  _ not _ go well together.”

George laughed at that, heart rate spiking at the notion that Dream could even be  _ interested  _ in guys. He too knew what it was like to be a confused teen in a world of hate and bullshit. 

Dream’s face sunk before continuing.

“And one day I was at school with my awful friends at the time and I never mentioned tap around them before, but I let it slip I had a class or something, I can’t even remember, and they started ripping me apart. Looking back, it was so dumb to be so upset for, but when your ‘friends’ are calling you gay for something you love and you’re already confused about what you are, it-”

“-I know what that’s like Dream,” George cut off, keeping a soft smile as the blonde looked back at him the flush reappearing overtop his freckles.

“You do?” Dream asked.

“Yeah, dumbass. I had my whole sexuality crisis after I saw a senior at my studio freshman year come out of a jazz class with all his friends and it sort of clicked why I never was into girls at all.”

George laughed, pulling his knees to his chest and leaning his cheek against the tops of them. Dream’s smile got wider at that, and continued speaking.

“I had this friend I was a little too friendly with and I never understood why I got so pissed when he’d talk about girls and shit. It also didn’t help that I knew I liked girls already and I didn’t even fully understand what being bi was or that it was normal. But so that night I threw my tap shoes out of my window of our apartment building like the angsty teen I was. I just- I hated myself and I thought it would go away if I destroyed the part of me I had attached it to.”

George couldn’t tell whether he wanted to laugh at the thought of a teenage Dream throwing his shoes out a window or to cry at the hopelessness and anguish he could relate to in the younger version of his friend.

“How did you come back?” He asked, studying Dream’s adam’s apple as he talked, watching it bob and mentally tracing the freckles dotting his neck. The blonde sighed, smiling to himself and giving a small nod to George, cocking his head to the right down at him.

“I told my mom to cancel all of my shit, and I basically lived in my room rotting away. It was four months later that someone came to our door with my shoes and said that they knew I was the only person in the building who tapped and maybe lost them on my way to class. When my mom handed me them back I had a breakdown and basically came out on the floor of our living room. It was the moment I swore to myself I’d never let anyone take my confidence from me again, even if they were affecting me I’d never give them the satisfaction of showing them.”

George nodded, stunned with the explanation given. Throughout their short time in the expansive dance room, the brunette quickly realized the cocky attitude and outlook of the blonde, always consistently confident and strong in everything he did. This disappeared when he spoke to George, however, but still remained in small barely noticeable quirks.

“Well its a good thing you continued on, otherwise you wouldn’t be gracing the world with your abilities,” George joked, moving to sit back on his arms.

“Wouldn’t’ve met you either, and that’s very important, isn’t it?” 

George’s face burned, forcing an eye roll and shoving the boy next to him gently on the knee,

“You’re so stupid.”

Another golden wheeze came from Dream, and George was beginning to grow too used to the fluttering in his stomach.

“Mhmm sure, mister ballet. How’d that start?”

George snorted at the memory.

“My first class I ever took was a tap class, actually, I was like five. Even then I hated it, everyone else was able to do shuffles and I was crying in the corner for my mum to pick me up.”

Dream sputtered another wheeze, shoulders shaking. George found himself laughing along with him, feeling safer than he had in a long time.

“She put me in ballet and jazz after that, which I quickly grew to love. Through secondary school and on I just was more pulled to ballet and fell in love with it. I don’t remember the moment I realized I wanted to specialize in it, it just sort of happened. But I can’t tap to save my life, I think that’s why I love watching it so much.”

“I could never do ballet, obviously I had to for technique but past what I was required at my studio? No way in  _ hell _ .”

There was a pause as George looked up again, eye contact lingering. The pair knew little about each other, but the brunette couldn’t shake the draw and pull to the other. A part of his chest was itching to run and jump into the sea that was Dream’s being, despite barely knowing him. He couldn’t place his mind in the ocean of feelings.

“I could try and teach you sometime, you know,” The blonde said, voice dropping low enough to give the brunette a subconscious shiver. Not wanting to break the moment, George huffed out a small laugh. The thought that they were close enough to be sharing air made him reel.

“My ex-boyfriend was a tapper, he tried and always got frustrated with my timesteps.” 

Dream’s eyebrows furrowed at that, jaw clenching. George didn’t miss the bite behind his eyes. Something about it made the brunette whir.

“He sounds like an asshole.”

“He was. First longterm boyfriend and the bitch cheats on me too many times to count.”

The brunette went to laugh it off, the pain of the experience no longer fresh and more of an old scar to look at and remember, before Dream’s eyes sharpened again.

“What the fuck, George? I-I’m  _ so _ sorry that-”

“-Dream I  _ promise _ it’s fine. Those memories are far, far in the past, and I haven’t dated anyone else really since.”

Dream opened his mouth to say something, before stopping himself and taking a breather. The protectiveness behind his eyes and throughout his body made George want to melt into it and hide behind.

Despite his traumatic past with boys and relationships, he had managed to not let his heart break again (too much) by just avoiding it all together. He’d let himself mentally appreciate people’s looks, or daydream scenarios of dates, or sometimes let his mind slip to a place it really shouldn’t in the middle of class, but he’d never let it affect his reality.

Dream was making that line he set up a lot harder to follow.

“I’m sorry, for both freaking out there and also your experiences. I haven’t had the best either, but I’m doing miles better now.”

George felt the impending heart ache coming, awaiting the drop of a name for a partner.

“My-”

_ Girlfriend, boyfriend- _

“-best friend helped me through a lot of it, and I haven’t really dated since coming here, either.”

_ How the hell is someone like him single? _

It was a question the brunette would take to his thoughts late at night.

“I just realized I never asked how old you are,” Dream continued, gaze drifting from the city lights outside the window to George.

“I’m 20, my parents gave me an extra year of preschool and I studied at a local dance school for a year before I was accepted here.”

The blonde laughed, a hand ruffling through his own waves (had his arms always been that toned?).

“Shit, you’re older than me. I’m 19, just old for my class.”

George studied the soft features of the boy’s cheeks, as he began to ramble on about a story from high school. The beat and intonation of Dream’s voice lulled a part of him into full relaxation mode, giving in to his body’s want of fully collapsing over itself. His eyelids fluttered closed, trying to hang onto the details of the boy’s every word while also allowing himself to be at peace.

When the steady sound of Dream’s voice stopped, George tilted his head up and moved to sit up only to wince at the fatigue cramping his body.

“We should get you back to your dorm, yeah?” Dream said, giving a soft laugh and letting his voice drop a few semitones. His arms reached to grab the brunette from overexerting himself more than he already was.

George sleepily nodded, making an attempt to sit up before wanting to cry at the energy it would take to fully stand. His eyes weren’t open enough to see Dream’s expression, but he could feel the worry in the air. Before he could fully take in the hazy world around him, his legs and body were hoisted up into the air.

Arms flying to the taller’s neck, George let out a shocked call of the blonde’s name, procuring a wheeze.

“Dream! How do you expect me to get back to my dorm?” George mumbled, groggily taking in his surroundings and registering the younger swinging their respective bags over the unoccupied shoulder, making his way out and switching the light of the studio off.

“George, you’re overworking yourself, I could see your thighs shaking when you tried to stand. Tell me what building and number you’re in, I’m taking you there.”

The prospect of his thighs shaking in front of Dream led his cheeks to become much too inflamed to be seen as normal. He shoved away the thoughts he should  _ not _ have been imagining about the friend that was carrying him bridal style down the empty halls of the dance wing, and succumbed to the warmth of Dream’s chest.

If he thought hard enough he could hear the boy’s heartbeat.

“Building C, dorm 223,” George mumbled, eyes barely staying open.

His last memories before dozing off were the strong arms holding his back and legs, the scent of musk and pine filling his nose, and the warmth surrounding his being.

-

He woke up in his bed completely tucked in with the shine shining lightly through his blinds. Rolling over, he vaguely registered the events of the night prior. The thought that Dream’s scent may still be on the jacket he wore made his head spin.

Seconds after sitting up and reaching for his phone, his door burst open with a frantic Sapnap.

“ _ Dude! _ ” He yelled, making George drop his phone and slip to the floor.

“What the  _ fuck _ Sapnap?” He replied, picking his phone up as his roommate sat on the edge of his bed.

“I tell you to get out of the dorm and you come home past out at one am being carried by Dream?”

George rolled his eyes and went to respond before furrowing his eyebrows in confusion.

“You know Dream?”

Sapnap’s face faltered for a second, like he was repeating something from a script.

“Yeah, we’ve been best friends since we were kids. Small world, huh?”

George laughed at that, making himself feel a bit more uneasy to discuss his interest in the blond with his childhood best friend.

“Crazy. How’d your date go?”

Sapnap flushed, ruffling a hand through his hair and not making an attempt to hide the red spreading across his cheeks.

“I-I mean it was good, we just watched a movie and ordered takeout, but holy shit is-”

Sapnap paused. “-are they, uhm, cool. And pretty, I think I’ve told you that before.”

George sensed the hesitancy around the pronoun usage. He sensed the feeling Sapnap wasn’t particularly out about everything to him, and decided to not pry. 

“Well I’m glad you had fun.  _ God, _ I’m sore, bring me Advil?”

Sapnap whined, before inevitably standing up and bringing back George’s water bottle and two Advil.

“Anything else for you, princess?”

George laughed, flipping him off before rolling to take his phone off of the charger. He noticed a small piece of paper on the drawer next to his table, moving to pick it up he quickly read it.

_ Didn’t wanna wake you up. Sleep well Georgie. _

_ -D _

_ PS you’re roommates with my best friend and didn’t tell me? Quite rude. _

George smiled.

God, was he in for it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> any & all comments are appreciated! 
> 
> updates soon, i hope you're enjoying reading as much as i am writing :]
> 
> -fia <3
> 
> twt: @/quartzfia

**Author's Note:**

> well BOY is this gonna be a ride! ive been planning this au for quite some time now and holy shit im so ecstatic for it to be brought to fruition now! a huge thank you to my lovely beta, anna, (twt: gnfluvr) who helped me loads in the writing process.
> 
> these chapters are going to be longer than my other works, but the entire work is already outlined out, so updates will most likely be very frequent alongside "more than i thought i did".
> 
> any & all comments are welcome and appreciated! thank you for your support on my works, it truly means beyond the world :]
> 
> -fia <33


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